


Chocolate Cake and Cinnamon Donuts

by DabbaDoo



Series: NCT Hybrid AU [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Boys Kissing, Eventual Smut, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, Headspace, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, Mark is an exchange student, Mating Cycles/In Heat, OT23 (NCT), Slow Burn, Smut, Texting, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, first heats, i dont know why, jaemin is a bunny hybrid, jeno is a samoyed hybrid, kind of, safe sex, these tags are a mess, they are very cute together, they just cry a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:41:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28703067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DabbaDoo/pseuds/DabbaDoo
Summary: “Hey, Jeno-ssi?” Jaemin sasy softly, walking up to the mountain of tables and chairs strewn about. He grabs ahold of a chair close to him.“Yes?” Jeno inquires.As he looks at Jaemin, he goes to pick up a table closest to the door as to not move anymore than he has to. The table is folded and laying against the wall.“Would you, um,” Jaemin begins and he cheeks start to dust a baby pink, visible even in the dark room, “uh, like to go out, sometime? Like, maybe a date? You don’t have to, it’s not like—it can just be an outing as friends. I don’t—”“Sure,” Jeno says eventually, breaking Jaemin out of his rushed mumbling, “it’s a date,”
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Series: NCT Hybrid AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950169
Comments: 4
Kudos: 88





	Chocolate Cake and Cinnamon Donuts

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer- this is a work of fiction and is not a real depiction of the characters in it.
> 
> After a long month, I am back... I don't want to take up too much of your time, but if you are new here, hi! I'm writing a series of different pairing's in one big hybrid universe because there isn't enough NCT Hybrid content in the world. I've done two stories, a Chenji fluff and a YuMark smut (all around the same length as this story), and I am planning many more, such as a sequel, or two, to this wonderful part with Renjun!
> 
> One more quick note, their age isn't directly stated, but because they are in their final year in high-school like I am, I haven't put the underage warning on. And with that being said, enjoy!

The day was the perfect mix of sun with wind, a precursor to the winter coming in due time; sun shining over the airport as a sunny welcome to all the people landing in Seoul. Outside, the wind blew against the building, kind yet heavy enough that the leaves rattle against each other.

Inside, the cool air conditioner blew against Jeno’s skin, prickling goosebumps along his exposed arms. He holds himself, arms crossed in an attempt to keep warm. It had been a poor decision to wear his black tank top, having left the jacket he had bought ‘just in case’ on the backseat of his aunties’ car.

She stands next to him, mask perked up over her nose and eyes paired with a gentle, natural shimmer. Her dyed brown hair is cut to her shoulders, bangs covering her view as she looks down at her phone. Upon her head is a red head band, placed just before her pretty ears flopped over. She has one black and one white, mix matching just like his mother’s ears do.

Jeno watches her pristine white nails tap on the screen. He isn’t sure if she is texting someone or on social media, but the sound drowns out the noise of people and hybrids alike moving passed them. It’s soothing, taking away from his other senses as he forgets where he is and what he’s doing.

His hair has been left messy despite having ample time to brush and dry his hair after his shower this morning, but he’s never really been one to put the effort where it doesn’t matter to him. Working out and remaining fit has always been more important, as evidenced by the bulge of his crossed arm. He holds a photograph loosely between his fingers and the expanse of his arm, though the side with the picture rubs against him. 

The distinct chime of his mother’s ringtone breaks the stare of his eyes, focus scrambled for a moment as the sound of busy people, rolling luggage and the speaker overhead calling out boarding details come back to him. He digs in his pocket for his phone, regaining his sense of touch on the photo.

He doesn’t spare a glance at the contact number as he says, “hello?”

“Has he landed yet?” Jeno almost laughs—she didn’t even greet him back.

“Sure mum,”

“You don’t know? Jeno-ah, the poor kid is probably lost,”

Jeno looks at the photo. It’s of a boy he hasn’t met personally, only one phone call that his principle set up to ease both of their nerves about meeting one another. They’ve texted before, however Jeno knows that how people text isn’t indicative of who they are as a person.

The boy in the photo has high cheeks and an awkward smile, thick, dark eyebrows perched above his eyes that have formed into crescents. It is barely an open mouth smile, but Jeno can see the smallest confirmation of teeth poking the small part of his lips. They’re clearly glossed because of the camera flash, however that seems to be the only sign of makeup.

His hair is combed over, most likely being held down with gel and hair spray. Poking out from his hair stands his ears, rounded and black as cheetah ears are. They’re small, premature, as he is perhaps two—three?—years younger than he is now. He is wearing a red shirt in the photograph, though the image cuts off at the chest.

It’s the photo he had sent him a few weeks ago to show Jeno what he looks like. You can’t really look for someone without knowing what they look like.

“Are you looking for him at least?”

“Of course mum,” Jeno lies through his teeth.

“Just make sure to ring me when you are leaving okay? We have to set up the welcoming party,”

“Will do,” Jeno says, and promptly hangs up.

He loves his mother, don’t get him wrong, but talking on the phone with her is one of the most painful things he has to do. Talking on the phone with anyone is, really, but Jeno can get over it for the most part.

Deciding that he should be doing as his mother said because she does have a point, he focuses his attention on the smell of sweaty people, unwashed clothes, and bad breath. The smell fills nose which twitches in disgust. His fluffy white ears perch forward, acting as a pair of second eyes as he scopes out the scene.

They’re standing near the baggage area though he can’t see the boy. There is a sea of black hair, though the occasional blonde and brunette slips past. There’s a mixture of humans and hybrids that pass, the occasional rabbit, cat and dog ear catching his attention, though Jeno’s looking for something else.

“Is that him?” His aunty, Haeun taps him on the shoulder, and he looks over to where she’s pointing over near the restroom, on the other side of the room.

He doesn’t have to look at the picture again to know that its him. His features stand out, even compared to other hybrids. There aren’t many wild hybrids out there, and the chances of that not being who he is looking for in next to none.

The boy is looking around, and his eyes lock with Jeno’s. They share an awkward smile, Mark waving sheepishly as he walks closer. He’s a pretty young man, Jeno just knows that once he fully stops growing his cheekbones will be a highlight.

And then as the memory of meeting Mark for the first time grows closer, the piercing ring of the school bell signaling the end of the school day shatters his focus and suddenly he’s back at his desk, book open with meaningless words scribbled through them.

No longer is the drowning smell of sweat and grumpy passengers; instead, the ruffling of bags and stationary fill Jeno’s senses. There is no announcer, just the ever-growing chatter of the cliques around him.

Mark is standing up beside him, shoving his pens and books into his bag and preparing to leave, so Jeno follows in suit. While Mark is technically a year older than Jeno, because he repeated a year in middle school, he was pushed back a year.

Jeno found that kind of funny when he found out. Mark laughs about it too and they even share jokes about the whole situation. They soon leave the classroom side by side, after Mark says goodbye to the small group of friends he’s made during his time here.

Jeno doesn’t have friends, per say, despite being an attractive, athletic, and academically smart student. He has what his mother calls ‘unfortunate acquaintances’ that he occasionally talks to and hangs out with.

He has a buddy he works out with at the local gym; however, they have no contact outside of that. He’s a nice guy, and while he is mostly certain that he goes to school with him, he isn’t a hundred percent sure if they’re in the same year, and one would think that that time he dyed sections of his hair red Jeno would of noticed if he was.

That’s probably a bad habit he’s gotten into he should fix. He tends not to notice the kids around him, or any of his peers for that matter—teachers included. He only really knows Mr Park, his maths teacher, but that’s because of an incident involving Jeno’s one and only detention.

There is that kid Yoon Sanha that he occasionally talks to because he sits on the other side of him in class, but other than that, he really only has Mark. Oh, and Yangyang too, but he lives across the world in Germany and they play video games together. 

Outside of the gates, Haeun is parked over a drain, speaking on the phone as the boys hop inside. She drives a big car, and though Jeno doesn’t know much about them, he knows it is a four-wheel-drive manual with enough horse power to kill a man (as Haeun so lovely put it when he asked).

“You know boys,” Haeun says as she hangs up, starting the car up and looking into the rearview mirror, “on my way to work today I saw this neat little café. Wanna stop by and get something?”

“Sure noona.” Mark smiles, and Jeno nods with similar enthusiasm; his tail would have been wagging had he not been sitting down, back pressed against dark leather. 

~~~~

The air is pleasant, cold to their skin as the wind picks up but warm as it stills, the sun accompanying it in tandem. It plays along with the wind, as do the white yet sparse clouds in the blue sky. It isn’t even a three-minute drive to get to the café in question. In fact, Jeno reckons he could walk there in record time if he cared enough.

The cafe is small in appearance, only a short distance from school. White bricks make the outside walls, though it’s evident that it was painted years ago by the way the white is chipping, especially on the corner.

Though most of what would have been brick is window, squeaky clean and shining in the sun. Almost, it sparkles, nearly cleaned, and waxed and polished.

There is a white overhang, accompanied by yellow stripes, that covers across the pathway. It stretches from one end to the other. One lonely table sits out by the window, not even a chair to sit by it.

When they push through the yellow door, Jeno immediately sees that it’s a lot bigger than he thought, though he should have seen that coming. It was common for small shops in the area to extend further than expected.

His eyes follow along the inside colouring of the wall. It’s unexpectedly pink, though it’s a nice hue that extends throughout the café. He finds that it matches with the yellow and white accents of furniture and decorations that fill the store, such as the striped overhang outside and the bouquets of flowers that sit in white vases on the tables.

Mark strolls in after him and takes the sight in as well; his eyes light up in childhood innocence. Haeun tells him to pick anything he wants, and Mark wanders to the glass casing that holds a multitude of cakes, pastries, and deserts of all kinds.

“Hi, what can I get for you today?”

Jeno lets his eyes fall from the blackboard drink menu that’s situated above the serving area to the handsome server standing there with the brightest smile on his face. The man is absolutely gorgeous with desirably wide eyes that hold a hidden compassion behind them. They appear so friendly and kind, and his smile, toothy and wide, invites Jeno to step closer so that he is beside Mark.

On top of his head stands two rabbit ears, tall and proud. One ear (the left one) is completely white while the other sports patches of white over a beautiful tan brown. His hair has been dyed blonde, the dark roots of his hair fading in.

“Jeno, what would you recommend?” Mark asks as he scratches behind his ears.

He lets his eye fall from the man before him and looks at the pastries. He doesn’t spare a second thought as he points to one of the displays, and Haeun orders it for him and herself, saying she’ll shout them all.

“And anything for the pretty boy?” The waiter asks, leaning onto his elbows with his chin resting on top of his hand.

The comment makes Jeno sputter in disbelief, ears perched upwards at the sound of his angelic voice. His cheeks flush red and his nose twitches in mild embarrassment. For a moment too long, he sputters over his words and struggles to breath properly.

The boy smiles at Jeno and gives him a warm smile to encourage him to form the words he wishes to form. It takes him a second, too busy staring into his chocolate eyes.

“Uhh,” Jeno thinks, “mochi, the mochi… please. And a chocolate milk,”

His voice is quiet and shy, picking at his cuticles as he awkwardly waits for the boy to place the order. The way he writes the order onto the lines pad of paper is extremely attractive to Jeno and he feels something in his lower abdomen heat up.

 _Oh no,_ he thinks, _that can’t be good._

“Okay, is that all for today? That’s just $15, I’ll get that for you shortly. Would you like a receipt?”

“Yes please.” Haeun shares a pleased smile on her lips as she retreats her card from the machine.

The boy takes a pen from his apron’s pocket and scribbles on the receipt, leaning over so her head covers whatever he’s writing. He hands it to Haeun with a smile, before looking over at Jeno and winking.

Jeno can’t help but feel as though this is just something this guy does, flirting with customers he finds cute or attractive. He’s also not stupid; he knows that he is a relatively attractive guy, and while he never cared for his appearance, he still did skin care and look after his body.

But the way he is acting feels a little too smooth, a little too experienced, a little too easy. Still, his cheeks are flushing at the wink and biting his bottom lip—it’s not a suggestive or sexy lip bite, one of a more nervous nature if anything other than a distraction.

“I’ll bring your order to you shortly. Please, have a seat,”

Haeun leads them all over to a table in the back corner close to the hallway in the middle of the wall that surely leads to the bathrooms. Jeno sits next to the window on the cushioned chair that runs along the entire expanse of the back wall, and Mark squishes up next to him. Haeun takes the seat with her back facing the front door.

Her eyes curiously run along her receipt, before she lets out a small chuckle. Both Jeno and Mark’s ears flick with interest, having been preoccupied with Mark pointing to a small Maltese dog being walked by their owner.

“Look at this Jeno-ah,” she smiles, handing him the paper.

There is lettering on the side of the page. The handwriting is neat and clean, with rounded edges and curvy curves. It’s neat, almost appearing like Comic Sans on the computer. The resemblance would have made him chuckle had it not say:

For the pretty Samoyed boy with the pretty smile,  
My Kakao ID- BunNana  
-Na Jaemin ;)

Jeno’s cheeks and nose blush up, he begins to bounce his leg in awe as he re-reads the message over and over again. The note reads what is essentially a pick up line, his Kakao ID and his name (which, by the way, is very pretty).

His ears are flicked forward, nose beginning to scrunch in embarrassment as Mark begins to laugh, loud and full of authentic amusement. He gently hits Jeno on the arm as he softly thrashes about, trying to not attract attention. Haeun laughs with him.

“Oh my god, dude—” the Canadian in Mark jumps out before he changes back to Korean, “—he’s, wait—no. I can’t,”

Through Mark’s struggle to form a sentence, either from him laughing so hard he has forgotten all of his hard work over the years or just because he is laughing so hard, Haeun prods the back of his hand. He looks up, face beet red.

“Are you going to text him?”

“I don’t—”

“Dude, he is definitely into you. You should at least add him on Kakao. Have you even been on a date?” Mark interrupts him.

The short answer is no, he hasn’t been on a date, but he swears he’s had both boyfriends and girlfriends in the past. It’s just never developed past sitting next to each other during lunch at school or video calling because of long distance (that happened once, and he can safely say he will never partake in a long distance or online relationship again).

“Technically, no…” Jeno trails off. Perhaps if it had been just the two of them without his aunty’s prying eyes then he wouldn’t have been so nervous or hesitant or embarrassed to answer the question.

It wasn’t like he wasn’t out of the closet or anything. The topic simply wasn’t something they conversed about commonly. In fact, after the initial shock and barrage of questions from a confused but supportive family, no one really brung it up again.

Though at Christmas when his grandmother from another time came to visit, and she asks if Jeno has found a pretty girl to marry, his mother always comes to the rescue, assuring her that he hasn’t found a pretty girl, nor a pretty boy.

Jeno likes to think she’s in denial, and if anything, it’s more funny than hurtful, and that’s how the past three Christmases have gone since he came out.

“Well? What’s stopping you? He is kind of pretty, you know?” His aunty inquires.

Jeno looks over her shoulder and see’s the boy, Jaemin the note said, carrying a tray with their collection of desserts and drinks. He tells them to shush as he approaches.

Gently, he puts the tray down and with a gloved hand he gives Jeno his mochi and chocolate milk, Haeun her coffee and Mark’s mystery pastry which, now that Jeno is looking at it, he doesn’t think he knows what it is.

Away from all the sweets, Jeno thinks that Jaemin smells like he lives here. His hybrid nose can pick out a rich chocolate scent off of him, mixed with a dash of sweet cinnamon. It’s stronger here in their isolated corner.

“There you all are. Enjoy your evening,” he smiles, and Jeno believes he could look at that smile for hours and not get bored.

Jeno, with a small sense of appreciation and bravery smiles back at him and nods, hopefully giving Jaemin the impression that he has read his note and isn’t disgusted by it. It probably took a lot of confidence to give him the note to begin with.

Jaemin walks away, bowing as a chorus of ‘thank you, you too’ see him off. Jeno watches the way his hips swing as he walks and the way his tiny, fluffy tail twitches, not knowing whether the movement was purposely done or not. Either way, it leaves a hungry impression in his warm lower abdomen.

~~~~

The unmistakable sound of Mark in the shower flows through his room softly. Having the bathroom directly next to his room has both negative and positive factors.

Mark is singing under his breath as he so often does. It’s nearly been a whole year since Mark came, and he really has become a brother to Jeno.

Not that Jeno needed another sibling, his elder sister Je-hwa was more than enough pain to put up with, but Mark was different. It was a friendship based brotherly love he felt for Mark, and hoped that after Mark left in a month's time, they’d continue being brothers.

With the sound of the shower going, Jeno plays with his phone against his chest. In his other hand he holds the receipt with Jaemin’s number on it.

Nerves play into his stomach. Was he going to do this? Should he even do this? Why was he even so worked up about this?

Maybe because of the effect this boy already has on him. Jeno normally isn’t one to get horny—but Christ, Jaemin made him feel things down there that he hasn’t felt in a while.

But, despite Jeno’s inexperience, he knows what he wants when he gets into a relationship. He doesn’t want to be a quick fuck, knowing that that would probably be painful on his poor romantic heart.

Hopefully, Jaemin isn’t like that. Hopefully, that charming smile he flashes isn’t something he shows everyone.

The number lays there, dormant as a contact in his phone now. His thumb hovers pathetically over the text icon, and he feels equally as pathetic when he clicks on it and the screen shifts.

His eyes watch the keyboard, looking at each individual letter as he thinks of something cool, but not cringe, but also something suggestive to let him know he’s interested, but not sounding desperate.

Jeno-yed  
Hi

This is what he settles on. The moment he presses sent, he regrets it. He sighs, turning his phone off and chucking it to the side of his bed. He runs his hands through his wet hair, regret eating up his stomach until his phone pings.

BunNana  
hiii  
is this by any chance the boy from the cafè?

Jeno smiles, biting his lip. Perhaps it is because he is hiding behind a screen, but he feels more confident. He can’t flirt in person, he gets too shy and flustered. He should be vague, maybe a bit of a tease. Guys like that right?

Jeno-yed  
Maybe…

BunNana  
hiiiii :)  
i was getting worried you would never text me  
how are you?

Jeno smiles.

Jeno-yed  
I’m doing great, thank you for asking. How about you?

BunNana  
kind of tired not gonna lie  
but better now that youre here ;)

Jeno chokes on his own spit. He sits up in his bed, red fluttering onto his cheeks as he scratches behind his ears and thinks of something to say back. This guy is bold. 

Luckily, Jeno doesn’t have the chance to send a message back because Jaemin sends another.

BunNana  
you know my name  
but i dont know yours  
mind telling me handsome?

Once again, Jeno is choking. How is this guy so smooth? He shouldn’t hesitate though, that would let Jaemin know that he is affecting him. 

Jeno-yed  
My name is Lee Jeno.

BunNana  
ahh that explains half of your name :D  
but whats the yed part about?  
is it something in english?

Jeno-yed  
It’s not meant to be pronounced like that, haha. It’s my name mashed with the ending of Samoyed. It’s meant to be pronounced like Je-No-Ye-Deu.

It’s a question Jeno has been asked before, namely Yangyang. That poor boy had no idea how to pronounce it, and Jeno spent half an hour on a discord call trying to teach him.

BunNana  
thats actually adorable  
youre very cute you know

Jeno can hear the shower stop, however he stays sitting up. He grabs his square pillow with the red and white stripes and hugs it to his chest as he hunches over.

He feels like a schoolgirl with how he is acting; cheeks blushed and smile wide as he re-reads the messages. His cheeks are starting to hurt.

It’s some minutes before Mark walks into his room, hand drying his hair with a baby blue towel. He only has on a pair of boxers and mix matched socks.

“Hasook-mum wants to know if you have any dirty—wait a minute, what’s up with you?” Mark asks, a skeptical look on his face.

“Tell mum everything is in the wash basket. And nothing is ‘up with me’. I just so happen to be talking to a really pretty guy,”

“Oh my god!” Mark exclaims in excitement, quickly running to sit on the bed next to Jeno, “is that Jaemin dude? Show me!”

Jeno repositions his phone so that Mark can see that he is, indeed, talking to Jaemin. Mark watches in fascination as he reads the few messages visible.

“Wow—you really texted him. Are you gonna go on a date?” Mark says nonchalantly, and Jeno pushes him. He nearly falls to the ground.

“Mark-hyung!” Jeno whines, “too soon,”

Mark shrugs and stands up. He walks to the door, announcing that he is going to bed and disappears into the hallway. Jeno turns his attention back to Jaemin and reads the message that came a minute ago.

BunNana  
i dont think ive asked  
but what year are you in??

Jeno-yed  
Oh, I’m in my final year of schooling.

BunNana  
oh really??  
me too 옷 :)

Jeno-yed  
I wouldn’t of figured. I thought you must have finished school to be working.

BunNana  
im just a really fast runner haha  
though I hate exercise 읏  
i always get to work as quick as i can  
because its only down the street from school  
i have great stamina ;)

Jeno pauses. Did Jaemin go to his school? He doesn’t recall seeing him. Maybe Jeno should start paying attention to his surroundings more; how he has somehow managed to miss someone this hot until now, he will never know.

He relates his first concern (avoiding, not only Jaemin’s sex joke, but also his attention dilemma) and waits for a reply. His knuckle nearly turns white from how harshly he is holding his phone.

A reply comes a moment later. He holds his breath, reading over the messages with curiosity.

BunNana  
i dont know??  
i would of remembered seeing a cutie like yourself ;)  
ill keep an eye out for you tomorrow then

Jeno-yed  
I’ll keep my eyes and ears out for you too. Wouldn’t want to chance not seeing a pretty bunny like yourself.

Nerves once again play up into his chest as he presses send. They spread like wildfire as he waits for Jaemin to answer. He feels like he just copied Jaemin’s flirting.

BunNana  
oh god  
my heart  
you might as well take it now ㅇ3ㅇ

Jeno-yed  
Are you always this cheesy?

BunNana  
i think you meant romantic <3

Jeno-yed  
Definitely did not, haha. As much as I’d love to stay, it’s getting late. I may or may not see you tomorrow. Goodnight Jaemin-ah, have a good night.

BunNana  
goodnight!!  
dream of me <3

Jeno puts his phone down, heart hammering against his rib cage as he manages to snuggle under his blankets and slowly drift into a peaceful sleep.

He may or may not have dreamt of Jaemin.

~~~

When Jeno walks into school, his eyes and ears are up, open, and looking for Jaemin. Perhaps it’s a lost cause to be looking, but Jeno can’t shake the feeling that they go to school together.

Everything he has learnt is pointing him into this direction. It would be crazy, unbelievable even, if Jeno was wrong on this. His gut is in knots just thinking about it.

The bell rings and he doesn’t get to search for long. Instead, he and Mark trug their way to class amidst the crowd of tired teenagers, just like every other day of the week and before he knows it, he is sitting at his desk and class begins as it always does, with Mr. Choi giving his greetings and ordering for everyone to grab their books out while he begins the lesson.

Jeno is too busy taking out his book to notice the knock on the door. He is too busy grabbing his pencil case to realise that the teacher has paused the lesson to open the door. He isn’t too busy to register that smell of chocolate and cinnamon.

He looks up, startled, and there he is in all his beautiful glory. His smile is wide, bunny teeth on full display as he and the teacher continue to converse in a hushed whisper. Perhaps Jeno forgot how gorgeous he is because he can’t help but stare. He wonders if Jaemin has smelt him to; or better yet, what does he smell like to Jaemin?

He doesn’t get to ponder the thought for long because the teacher is suddenly addressing the class. He stands in the middle of the room, tall and proud, while Jaemin still stands in the doorway, and from what Jeno can tell, he is being uncharacteristically shy and reserved.

“Everyone, we have a transfer from the class down the hallway. I want you to all welcome him with open arms,” Mr. Choi says, ushering Jaemin into the classroom.

Looking down at his feet and letting his long ears flop over, Jaemin shuffles into the room. He holds his book in his arms, holding it up to his chest. Jeno is practically gawking at him, the scent and sight of him pushing all the right buttons.

God, he really sounds desperate. Since when did Jeno become a horny teenager?

“There doesn’t appear to be any spare tables…” Mr. Choi trails off, “Jeno-ssi!”

His name causes for him to look from Jaemin to Mr. Choi, startled and ears up in attention. He can feel Jaemin’s gaze of him now, but he refuses to look back at him in fear of becoming flustered and/or dying on the spot.

“Jeno-ssi, would you like to take Jaemin-ssi to the storage room in the gym to get a table and chair for him?” Mr. Choi asks, though Jeno knows it is not a question.

Jeno stands and nods his head. He grabs the hall pass off the teacher. He can’t help but look down as he walks out of the door, Jaemin behind him trailing with soft footsteps. 

Down the halls they travel, not saying a thing to one another. Jeno wants to speak up because holy shit, he is really here—he was right—and this is the first thing to go right for him in a while. This could be his chance, but he is too awkward and shy to speak first.

Luckily, when they travel down the stairs, Jaemin has the guts to do what he wishes he could, “so, we do go to the same school,”

“Yeah, it appears so,” Jeno says awkwardly, scratching his cheek.

Jaemin giggles—fucking giggles?—and comes up to walk beside him, nudging Jeno with his elbow. The action makes Jeno smile fondly, reciprocating and steering Jaemin into the gymnasium. 

There is a teacher there with her class, and upon seeing Jeno, she excuses herself from talking to another teacher and walking around the outline of the court, careful to not get hit by any of the balls flying around. From how there are two teams set up with a line of cones separating them, Jeno would guess they are playing Dodge Ball. 

“Hello boys.” The teacher bows, and the two follow suit.

“Hello teacher. We’re here to get a table and chair for Mr. Choi,” Jeno says respectfully and the teacher nods.

“Just down that way is the storeroom. Here is the key. Return it,” she says, handing over a chain of keys with one between her fingers.

Jeno carefully grabs that one key in particular, fisting it and giving his thanks. He takes Jaemin to the room, walking along the edge of the wall, down to the roller door the teacher pointed to. He intserts the key and lifts it up. It takes some effort to push it all the way up.

He doesn’t miss the way Jaemin catches sight of his arms as he does move it. Surely, the muscles toning his body bulged when he lifted the door. He feels slightly self conscious about it, however, he doesn’t say anything.

The room is dark, only being illuminated by the lights overhanging the gym. Their shadows are casted like puppets of their being, stretching long across the floor as they scan the room together. 

Inside is mostly filled with sporting equipment like lacrosse sticks and soccer goal nets, however, in the corner is a huge, messy pile of unused chairs and foldable tables. They aren’t any difference from the table and chairs Jeno sits at.

“Hey, Jeno-ssi?” Jaemin sasy softly, walking up to the mountain of tables and chairs strewn about. He grabs ahold of a chair close to him.

“Yes?” Jeno inquires.

As he looks at Jaemin, he goes to pick up a table closest to the door as to not move anymore than he has to. The table is folded and laying against the wall.

“Would you, um,” Jaemin begins and he cheeks start to dust a baby pink, visible even in the dark room, “uh, like to go out, sometime? Like, maybe a date?”

He must catch look of the shocked expression that covers itself over his face because he suddenly starts back-tracking in a panic.

“You don’t have to, it’s not like—it can just be an outing as friends. I don’t—”

“Sure,” Jeno says eventually, breaking Jaemin out of his rushed mumbling, “it’s a date,”

~~~~

They plan a date for the following weekend, working around Jaemin’s work schedule and Jeno’s schedule around working out. Neither of them do stuff on the weekend, so it seems fitting.

But that turns out to be a problem for Jeno—he doesn’t do things on the weekend, which makes his parents suspicious when he tells them he is going out to hang with a friend at the park. 

Jeno didn’t want to tell anyone that he was going out on a date, not because he is afraid or anything, but out of the inevitable teasing and questions they will bombard him with, especially his mum and sister. Those two seem very invested in whether or not Jeno has friends or a partner.

He did tell Mark though, because, at this point, they tell each other everything. Mark is supportive as he always is (well, it would be quite hypocritical of him to only now be like ‘you can’t date men, that’s a sin’ because he to likes to suck dick—his words, not Jeno’s) and he promises to keep hushed about it.

Je-hwa is the one that speaks up first when Jeno tells her he needs the bathroom because he is going out with a friend. It is late in the morning, but it is still early enough that Jeno is usually still asleep because he plays his games long into the night. 

He usually claims it is because Yangyang, the guy Jeno plays with most of the time, lives in another time zone, but everyone knows it’s because when it comes to gaming, Jeno doesn’t have much self-control. And it is his only other spare time as he spends most weeknights studying.

“What friends?” Je-hwa muses, fluffing her hair that is currently in the process of being curled. She is about halfway done, making sure the curls are bouncy.

“From school,” Jeno says directly, “come on, please just let me have the bathroom for thirty minutes,”

She looks at him with an eyebrow raised, points at him with her hair curler, “you can wait. Besides, unlike you, I actually have a date, something important to get ready for. Why can’t you just go the way you are, you look fine.” She side-eyes him as he takes a strand and wraps it around the hot part, “unless…”

“No! It’s fine. I can’t wait,” Jeno says hurriedly and scurries off to hide in the kitchen. 

He doesn’t really get to hide as his mother and Mark are sitting in there. He can only thank God that his aunty isn’t here, and is instead at the lawyers office for an important meeting about her divorce. Jeno doesn’t pry about the details, but he overheard her and his mother talking last night when he walked out to get a glass of water during the late hours of the night.

His appearance in the kitchen startles his mother, who takes a moment to dramatically gasp with her spare hand on her chest, the hand with her glass of water being placed down on the counter to grip onto the edge.

“Who are you and what have you done with my sweet Jeno,” 

“Hardy-har.” Jeno rolls his eyes, taking his place beside a knowing Mark on the stools that reside at the isle counter. 

His mother eyes his suspiciously, “what are you doing? You’ve got that look in your eyes,”

Jeno feels a moment of defeat because nothing really gets past his mother. He deflates, eyes flattening on top of his head, looking at Mark for help who only continues to eat his scrambled eyes, not even daring to meet Jeno’s puppy eyes that he knows he will fall for. 

“Just… going out,” Jeno mumbles, “with a friend,”

Her eyes light up, “awe! Is my sweet little baby finally going on a date?”

That is enough for Mark to choke, however he stays silent and gages Jeno’s reaction, which is him just going red and straightening out in a panic.

“No! He’s just a friend,”

“Sure,” his mother says unconvinced but nothing else is said about the topic.

He looks at the time on his phone; two hours until Jaemin comes to pick him up. And he hasn’t even started getting ready.

Somehow, two hours fly by in what feels like ten minutes because he is barely finished drying his hair and fur and he hears a knock on the front door downstairs. The panic sets in, because his shirt isn’t even done up, his fur hasn’t been groomed, and he isn’t wearing shoes.

But that panic is overridden by the idea of anyone else in his family opening the door and talking to Jaemin and he bolts to answer the door, doing up his buttons as he runs, pushing past Je-hwa to beat her it. He swings open the door, missing Je-hwa’s rised eyebrow and the way she exits the room, and he instantly feels inferior when his eyes land on Jamein.

His hair is a beautifully bright pink, gently waved on the surface, and Jeno thinks he looks even better with coloured hair. His ears have been left their natural colour, an indication that he went to a hair dresser to get this done. He is sporting light makeup, especially around his eyes where his tiger-eye, shimmery brown eyeshadow blends beautifully into his eye liner.

His lips are glosses, and if Jeno had any little self-control, he would of kissed Jaemin right then and there. They appear so loving and kissable, so soft to the touch and oh so addicting. Jeno knows he looks like he is a mess right now, but Jaemin is the one to speak up first.

“You look,” Jaemin trails with a bunny smile on his face, “handsome,”

“And you look stunning, as always,” Jeno says, muffling the last part and leaning down to pick up his shoes and walk outside, closing the door behind him.

He slips his cons on, Jaemin watching as he does so. He also fixes his shirt, tucking it in and he can see Jaemin holding his arms behind his back, rocking on his feet.

“What?” Jeno asks curious, ears flicking forward.

“C-can I,” he says, motioning to his shirt.

Jeno nods, not really understanding, but allowing for Jaemin to close the gap between them. His hands press on Jeno’s chest and stomach, and he doesn’t even really register that he is undoing his buttons until the cold air hits his skin.

He doesn’t move though, too stunned to really do anything. Before he can even ask Jaemin what he is doing, he is doing his buttons back up, and when he finishes and flattens out Jeno’s collar, Jeno feels a lot less lopsided, though he didn’t realise he was.

“Your buttons weren’t even.” Jaemin sends him a flirty wink, and if that isn’t an indicator of how the rest of this date is going, Jeno doesn’t know what is.

They go to the park as planned, and Jeno honest to god has the best time of his life. This was even more exhilarating and exciting than when they took Mark to Busan for two weeks during school holidays. 

It was so much fun that he offered to take Jaemin for coffee, which he agreed to. It was very fun, even more so as Jaemin grabbed a hold of his hand while they were walking to the closest café. It feels very romantic, their afternoon spent flirting back and forth, and while Jeno tries to match Jaemin’s energy, it is infinitely harder when he isn’t safe behind his screen. 

He spends most of the time with a wide smile that matches Jaemin’s, his cheeks dusted a light pink, and, like the gentleman he is (and because Jaemin insisted of picking him up to begin with) he walks the boy home.

It is quite a long walk, but it is peaceful, and walking hand in hand makes for the perfect end to their first date. At some point while walking, Jaemin leans closer to his, holding arm instead and resting his head on Jeno’s shoulder. 

When they get to Jaemin’s street, he lets go, and Jeno misses the warmth, but soon enough he is walking to (more like being dragged up to) Jaemin’s house. It is a beautiful white house, not much different to Jeno’s, only the garden isn’t kept, and the grass stands tall. 

They stop on the patio, and Jeno finds the courage to hold his hand in his. Jaemin looks mildly panicked so Jeno offers him a kind smile.

“I had fun today,” Jeno says, “and I hope you did too,”

Jaemin smiles wider, leans to look behind him and at the window before taking a step closer, “I did. We should do it again,”

Jeno brings Jaemin’s hands top his lips, pressing a kind kiss to his knuckles before lowering and letting go all together. They stare at each other, and time seems to stop as they are gazing into each other’s eyes. Jaemin is the first to look away.

“I’ll message you later, okay?” Jaemin says, and though he doesn’t meet his eyes, he pets his head.

“Hmm, okay. And if you forget…” Jeno trails off.

“Then I’ll have to make it up to you,”

~~~~

Jaemin does message him. And they message a lot. 

It’s kind of cute, Jeno thinks, and Mark surely seems to think the same. He asks Jeno for updates every now and again, and Jeno is more than happy to show off how much he enjoys talking with Jaemin.

They’ve gone on many dates; mostly lunch dates, however they haven’t had a sleepover or anything like that. Is that even what it’s called when it’s with someone you are romantically interested in? Jeno doesn’t know, but whatever it is, they haven’t done that.

Jaemin seems pretty adamant on Jeno not going into his home, which Jeno is fine with. He respects that boundary; however he wants to spend a whole afternoon with him, throughout the night. He feels so cold after their dates now because they spend most the time clinging off each other.

He hasn’t told his mother, nor his father, however, he had to come clean when his aunty sent him a message with the picture of the two of them at the playground of Jeno pushing Jaemin on the swing set because he just looked too cute to say no, with a question mark attached to it.

Haeun agreed to not say anything, and the photo was deleted (but not after Jeno screenshotted it to show Jaemin because the smile on his face was too beautiful). Though she said she wouldn’t say anything, that hasn’t stopped her from teasing Jeno at any given chance.

At school, they are a lot less touchy with one another but that doesn’t stop Jaemin from hanging out with him with Jeno’s friends (namely Mark, who hangs out with his own friends). He hangs out with Jaemin’s friends too, which consists of a little human boy and his cat hybrid boyfriends most of the time.

In class, the sit in their respected seats, Jeno in the middle and Jaemin in the back, but in Physical Education, PE for short, where there isn’t a seating plan because they are outside or in the gym, they are all up in each other’s space though Jaemin never lets his clinginess hold Jeno back because Jeno playing sports in hot.

Currently, they are sat in the gym, listening to the teacher begin the lesson. They are up against each other, Jaemin sitting cross-legged, pressed and leaning into Jeno’s side and Jeno’s hands rest on Jaemins knees.

Jeno does not really pay attention to theory lessons very often, however, when the teacher began the lesson by pulling out a portable whiteboard with the words ‘Hybrid Heats and Ruts’ written in bold, fancy colours, he can’t look away.

Hybrid education isn’t a common occurrence, especially not in public schools. Jeno doesn’t think he has spent any more than five hours leaning about hybrid biology or history at school, not even if he added up the time he spent sitting in the classroom over the years. 

Jeno has already leant about this, courtesy his parents, as most young hybrids do. No matter what kind of hybrid you are, they will all experience on of the two. To compare, it’s like a female’s period. They begin at a certain time, and while ruts are permanent until death, heats will only last until the hybrid in in their late fifties on average. 

Sometimes it’s a surprise which one you are stuck with, sometimes a hybrid just knows. Jeno isn’t sure which one he’ll get, but he’s hoping for ruts. They sound a lot less painful and he feels more dominate than anything else, whether that is a personal thing or a hybrid thing.

He’s happy that the teacher is a hybrid herself. It makes the explanation a lot less painful to hear for a second time. The teacher spills on about stuff he has already heard before, so he particularly pays attention to the way the people around him react to it all, specifically the humans in his class. The other hybrids seem to be doing the same, Mark included who is sat next to Jeno, albeit he has scooted away slightly to distance himself from the two love birds. 

One kid in particular seems to be disgusted. Jeno can recognise him as a part of the popular crowd, a crowd of people he tries not the get involved with. His hair is slicked back, a flyaway strand falling down the front of his face. His eyes are piercing, dark and cold, and Jeno would probably think he was handsome had he not has a) Jaemin by his side, and b) the ugliest expression plastered on his face. 

“A hybrids heat is usually painful. It gets its name from the burn that a hybrid feel in their lower abdomen,” the teacher goes on, “they usually occur later in a hybrids teen year. In females, its like second puberty, an innate need to pass on gene. In males however, because they cannot bare children, it’s more difficult to explain,”

“It means they’re gay,” the boy with the slicked back hair says, a smirk playing on his lips.

 _I bet he feels good about that,_ Jeno thinks, rolling his eyes.

“Heats don’t equal sexuality, Jihoo-ssi,” the teacher immediately claps back, “my husband goes through heats, does that make him gay?”

“Well no. But it’s pretty gay if you ask me,” the kid, Jihoo, says, “its unnatural. Why do they get heats,”

“Because of universal laws outlawing the exploitation and scientific exploration of hybrid kind, we have no idea. Regardless, we hybrids have been able to continue living without knowing why and it hasn’t affected the way we live,” 

“They should get rid of those laws,” Jihoon snickers and his friends seem to find amusement in what he said.

As he speaks, Jeno can feel Jaemin tense up, lean muscles hardening as he bites his lip, stopping himself from saying anything. He can tell that Jaemin wants to say something and he has never felt Jaemin radiate so much anger, he even smells different, richer. 

The words sting like a needle being jabbed into Jeno’s side, but he finds comfort in the way a human girl with dyed blue hair tells him, “that wasn’t funny”. He stops to look at her and flips her off.

“Oh boo-hoo, it was just a joke,”

“No, it was a malicious comment,” Jeno speaks up, tugging Jaemin closer into the side, “you know nothing of what you’re talking about. You learn a fraction of what we have to deal with on a day-to-day basis. So, do yourself a favour, and shut up.”

Jihoo did not like that; Jeno can tell from how his nose twitches like an angry bunny. It’s amusing, and Jeno would of laughed in his face and made a comment, but he isn’t a mean person. He has said all he needs to say and if he wants to continue acting like a child, then he can.

He doesn’t say anything more and instead stirs in his own petty anger and turns to his friends. He whispers something, but even to Jeno’s trained dog ears, he can’t hear anything. Jeno doesn’t care however, because Jaemin is pulling on his collar.

Jeno turns to listen to him but then he is cold everywhere but his hand. His source of warmth has stood, pulling on him with a small pout on his face and tears threatening to spill over and an overwhelming incentive to make those tears disappear washes over him.

Without thinking, Jeno stands and lets Jaemin drag him to the changerooms. The teacher lets them go, and Jeno can hear her tell Jihoo to meet her after class in the teachers’ lounge and continues the lesson as if the disruption hadn’t even happened.

Jaemin slams the door shut behind him, and just Jeno is about to ask if he is okay, he is pulled into a rough embrace. It’s a shock but the warmth coaxes him into hugging back.

His hands roam over Jaemin’s back, soothing and caressing the muscles in a hopeful attempt to calm him down when he fells the boy in his arm shaking. It’s worrying and eventually sobs bounce off the walls and a wet patch seeps onto Jeno’s skin on his neck where Jaemin has buried himself.

Time goes by slowly like that, Jaemin shaking and Jeno there to sooth him. His voice is whiny and loud, and at some point, he works himself and he’s heaving for a breath, not letting his grip on Jeno’s shirt loosen in fear of something Jeno can’t place. 

The gasping for air sends a string of worry coursing through Jeno’s veins and he pulls back and holds Jaemin’s face in his large hands, thumb wiping away the excess tears that are running down his cheeks. Jeno has to fight the urge to kiss his forehead.

Jaemin looks like a broken mess. His nose and cheeks are a warm, a dusted pink and the tears flow like rapids in a river, harsh and unrelenting, lashes dark and stuck together from the wetness. Eyes bore into Jeno’s, straining and scared. 

He is drooling too, mixing with his tears, snot running slightly out of his nose and his eyebrows are furrowed. His mouth is left wide open as he tries to calm himself down but the noses he makes are obnoxious and loud.

One hand reaches to get paper towel out of the dispenser and he properly begins to wipe down his cheeks and nose, whispering ‘its okay’s and ‘I’m right here’s. It takes some time, but eventually his breaths even out and the tears stop dropping.

They stay like this with Jaemin’s cheeks being squished gently in Jeno’s hands, holding onto each other for maybe a minute—maybe it’s five—before Jaemin leans back into Jeno’s shoulder, resting his forehead there.

“Thank you,” Jaemin whispered, almost inaudible to the human ear, “for staying here… and sticking up to Jihoo-ssi,”

“No need to thank me love,” Jeno says, tipping his head to the side to place a long kiss on Jaemin’s hair. He can’t help himself.

The action is enough for Jaemin to part with him slightly, staring at him, “but I do,”

“Why? It really isn’t a big trouble.” Jaemin looks hesitant to share, “you can tell me anything Jaemin-ah, you know that,”

“I had to move classes because of the things some boys were saying in my old class about my heritage,” he says hesitantly, grabbing Jeno’s hands and biting the inside of his cheek, “no one has stood up for me like not, not even my parents. I—I haven’t felt that safe in a while. I can’t just not thank you,”

It all happened so fast, Jeno isn’t sure how to describe it.

One moment their foreheads were resting together and the next his lips were slotted in between Jaemin’s, pushing deliciously with everything he has. There is no tongue, no teeth; just lips pressed against lips and while Jeno doesn’t have much to compare to, it feels like heaven.

Jaemin seems surprised, hesitant even, but his hands end up tangled in Jeno’s longish hair that really needs a haircut. Their bodies remain apart, but not too far that Jeno can still feel the heat radiating from his skin.

It feels amazing, so amazing that Jeno nearly whimpers when the plush lips leave his, chasing them for another kiss. Jaemin chuckles at that, sniffles, and comes back in with more force than Jeno thinks is necessary, but is he complaining? Hell no.

Somehow, Jaemin feels like he has done this many times before while simultaneously feeling like he has no idea what he is doing. Jeno should be the inexperienced one here but he has somehow kept the lead, Jaemin following what he does.

There is no need for anything more; just their lips fitting together like two puzzle pieces, a slow and teasing push and pull that Jeno can get drunk off. 

~~~~

It is becoming a regular thing. Jeno steals as many smooches as he can while respecting Jaemin’s wish to keep them private, not wanting news about the recent development in their ‘friendship’ to reach his parents. 

They say friendship because they haven’t talked about putting a label on it. It is nice to just be free, to be doing what they have been doing. Without a label, there is no rush, though Jeno does hope that one day they will put a name to their relationship. 

To Jeno, it is becoming abundantly clear that Jaemin’s parents aren’t like his own, however, he doesn’t want to dwell on it, especially because breaching the topic is sensitive to Jaemin and he would rather jump off a bridge into freezing cold water and have soggy socks for the rest of the day than hurt Jaemin. They can discuss it later.

Jaemin spends time at Jeno’s house now, coming over occasionally whenever he doesn’t have work. Don’t tell Jaemin, but some days, Jeno skips out on going to the dance studio or gym just to be with him (he honestly can’t say no to the cute little bunny when he asks to hang out). 

So here they sit, in Jeno’s loungeroom with Jeno on the couch with Jaemin between his legs, scrolling through his phone. When he catches a glance down, he can see him making his was through his Instagram feed. His legs stretch under the glass coffee table. 

His cheek is pressed into the muscle of Jeno’s inner thigh and he has spent the better part of the past half hour whining about how hard he feels, though Jeno can tell Jaemin loves it. On one of their dates, Jaemin made it a point to tell his how beautiful his legs look and feel. 

Jeno’s mother is sitting on the single chair on the other side of the coffee table. Her laptop is open as she types quickly along the keyboard. She doesn’t comment on the two, not wanting to tease her son’s new friend, but she is biting her tongue. 

“What about the green balloons?” Jeno’s mother asks, looking over her glasses.

“Are there blue ones? It’s his favourite colour,” 

They are currently planning Mark’s going away party. He has been with them for nearly a year and it is nearly time for him to go back home in Canada.

It hurts. Jeno doesn’t want his brother from another mother to leave and when he isn’t spending time with Jaemin, he is doing whatever Mark wants to do. He is going to miss him, and though they still have a fortnight together, the pending separation is going to hurt him.

He doesn’t want to dwell on it. They have had their talk, Jeno has shed his tears and feelings about having Mark leave and he is sure that at the airport there will be more, but Mark has already promised to come back. He just wants to focus on having a great gathering with all the people Mark has made friends with and Jeno’s family that Mark can also call his second guardians. 

Currently, Mark is with Minjoon, Jeno’s father, Haeun, and two of Mark’s friends (Yukhei and Dowoo if Jeno isn’t mistaken), out some hours away at the beach. Jeno wanted to go, but his mother made him stay with the promise to clean the house. Mark did not mind, in actuality, Haeun feels like a sister in the same way Jeno feels like a brother somehow. 

Cleaning the house isn’t a total lie; they did work on the kitchen and bathroom until Jaemin came over and since then they’ve been stuck into planning for the party. They only have the next few hours because from here on out, Jeno has promised to hang with Mark as much as possible.

Jeno is trying to find an invitation design he can nick off google, though none immediately jump out at him. He wants it to resemble Mark but also look good. Not to roast Mark or anything. This whole party is going to be for Mark.

~~~~

The house is dark, quiet, anticipating the warm welcome that Mark will be met with when he walks in. 

Jeno had taken him out for an afternoon hangout, dragging him to the most random of places (including the gym, the river that flows an acre from the school, the park Jeno and Jaemin had their first date—don’t tell Mark—and a fast-food restaurant).

It was all a ploy to get him out of the house so everyone can set up for the party. Jeno is excited, and though Mark is evidently exhausted from their afternoon activities, he wears a happy, cat-like smile on his face and Jeno is more than happy to continue like this as the day begins to grow darker. 

They are at a skating ring, Mark handing back the skates he borrowed when Jeno gets a text, at precisely eight o’clock, from his mother, a go ahead to bring Mark home. A wave of relief washes over him; no longer is the stress of trying to find another activity to do to waste time for everyone else. 

“I am so tired dude,” Mark says, walking out of the building.

“Yeah, me too. We should go home now,” Jeno replies but then he thinks leaving it at that is a bit sus, “we can do everything else tomorrow,”

“Everything else? Dude!” Mark exclaims and raises his hand to playfully slap Jeno on the shoulder.

It’s playful and Jeno laughs as they begin their night-time adventure home. The occasion small talk occurs, but it’s quiet and short, like Mark pointing at a pebble on the path or making a side comment on how cold his tail feels.

Jeno feels at peace with everything. The air cruising along his exposed collarbone is soothing, calming his excitement for the surprise event. He honestly hopes Mark doesn’t know what is going on, surprising Mark is his one and only goal tonight.

He briefly wonders if Jaemin will make it (Jaemin had broken the news to him on Friday that he mightn’t be able to make it due to a ‘family event’, though Jeno knew that meant something to do with his parents having a problem with him going out so often), but Mark is now a priority. 

They walk onto Jeno’s street during the late minutes of eight o’clock—he knows because he sends his mother a text. It is silent, as the rest of the walk has been. The cosy homes are all dark, barely any light shining onto the street. To guide their way home is the streetlamps, but they are old and yellow and the moon above them shines brighter than the stars in Mark’s eyes.

“Hey dude,” Mark says suddenly, voice quiet.

They are just out the front of their neighbours’ house, ten steps from walking onto the lawn, a minute from Mark’s party, just moments away from a fun celebration and possibly emotional goodbye, and Mark grabs a hold of his wrist.

“Thank you for today,” 

Jeno stares at him, wondering if there will be any more words but he knows that Mark is a simple man. Talking isn’t his strong suit, and maybe he is a bit anxious when being affectionate or showing his appreciation for someone or something, though Jeno can tell by the way he is gripping onto his wrist, that he is unbelievably thankful for the time they spent together.

“If I’m being honest hyung, I felt bad that I was hanging out with Jaeminie so much, especially when you are leaving soon. I know you said that you don’t mind, but it was bothering me. That was one of the main reasons for today,”

Mark chuckles, ears flicking, “still, thank you. But I really do hope tomorrow is more laid back,” 

His words for a moment catch Jeno off guard before he laughs. He tugs for Mark to hurry up.

“Oh yeah, there isn’t anything tomorrow. Just wanted to see your reaction,” Jeno laughs and Mark follows in suit, slapping his shoulder blade without much power behind it. 

Jeno leads him up the stairs and opens the door, as planned. The house is dark, quiet—a little too quiet. There is no sign of anything out of the ordinary, though there is the off smell of bodies swirling through the air that Jeno knows Mark will be able to smell.

He needs to momentarily distract him from the smell while they take their shoes off at the doorway.

“I think mum and dad are asleep,” Jeno says offhandedly, making sure to be quiet to commit to the lie.

“Probably. I haven’t heard this house this quiet this early before,” says Mark as he straightens his back from tugging off his vans.

He walks on ahead, and Jeno quickly catches up so that he can turn on the lights, however, as quick as a cheetah, Mark beats him to it and suddenly it is loud, with people popping out from behind furniture and screaming their greetings to a very confused Mark.

It looks like a surprise birthday party Jeno thinks and Mark’s reaction is adorable. He squeaks, steps back into Jeno’s chest, ears and tail straight in alert, but when the noise calms (or when he sees familiar faces), his face brightens with a wide, toothy smile.

If Jeno could see his eyes, he would be met with happy tears. Mark immediately turns to pull him into a brief embrace, one that is too quick to be warm, before he is off and running to everyone else, giving them all hugs of their own.

Jeno watches from the lounge-room doorway as music begins to play, leaning up against it when he catches a set of familiar eyes staring at him. He smiles, sending a flirty wink to him, and just as he thinks he is going to make his way over to him, he waves and turns back to head into the kitchen. He smiles to himself. _God damn Jaemin,_ he thinks, _he must be feeling flirty to be making me chase him._

He doesn’t get the chance to think about it much longer as Mark is coming up to him and once again pulling him into a hug. Jeno can finally reciprocate.

“Jeno-ah, you are a sneaky menace. Thank you,” he says pulling away.

Jeno’s hands fall to his jeans pockets, “no problem. You deserve it Mark-hyung,”

He looks like he is hesitant to speak, “I wouldn’t worry about me tonight.” Jeno must give him a confused expression because though he doesn’t look like he was going to elaborate, he continues, “I’ve got heaps of friends. Go hang out with Jaemin-ah. I know that when I leave you won’t have many other people, but Jaemin will be,”

“Yeah,” Jeno whispers under his breath, taken aback by Mark’s forwardness, “yeah okay. Have fun tonight. If you need anything just come find me,”

Just as he turns to head away, he quickly looks back and says, “and maybe confess to him too while you’re at it. If I have to leave here with you still single I may just cry for you,” and then skips off to a tall looking man who Jeno knows as Yukhei. 

His cheeks flush a fairy pink at his words, rubbing at his neck and looking down at the floor to settle the butterfly’s in his stomach. The words were abrasively blunt, jarringly so, and its not like he hasn’t thought about it, as fun as not being labelled is, and Jeno is not stupid; he knows Jaemin likes him too, it’s glaringly obvious. 

Maybe labelling it is just the final push they need, a solid confirmation that they are exclusive and together. Then Jeno can actually parade Jaemin around like his show dog because Jaemin is beautiful and everyone in Jeno’s life deserves to be blessed by his beauty. 

Taking a deep breath in, he looks up, mind made-up and ready to look for Jaemin, and he is met with a pair of dark caramel eyes, a big bunny toothed smile, and rich chocolate and cinnamon filling his senses. It startles him, causing him to stumble back.

“Hi handsome!” Jaemin exclaims, loud and energetic and Jeno cannot help the smile forming on his face. He is acting completely opposite from how Jeno thought he was going to when he saw him earlier.

“Hi,” Jeno greets, “I didn’t think you were going to make it,”

“Me neither,” he says, bravely wrapping his arms around Jeno’s broad shoulders and dragging him into the makeshift dancefloor the bodies have made. It is made up of mostly Jeno’s family that Mark has met over the year and kids from school, “but I figured you would miss me if I didn’t come,”

“Yeah?” Jeno challenges, hands coming to hold his waist daringly, “maybe you’re right. I was beginning to have withdrawals,”

“I bet you were,” he teases back, and their bodies begin to move slowly together.

The beat lowing through the house is high energy, probably an American rap song Mark likes, but they remain slow and as much as it bugs the dancer in Jeno, Jaemin feels heavenly draped on him like this. It feels clingy as it usually does with Jaemin, only now, with hips rolling together, it feels hungry too.

Here, together, it feels perfect. They aren’t in time with everyone else but Jeno could say that would be symbolic of their relationship if they were in a movie. It feels so perfect, in fact, that it acts as the final push for Jeno to let his heart pour out.

“Jaemin-ah,” Jeno begins, squeezing Jaemin’s hips gently.

The action has Jaemin preening slightly and he leans closer to Jeno. His big frame practically engulfs him, though they’re very similar in height. It leaves a lasting effect in Jaemin’s stomach, however, he can’t pinpoint what he’s feeling.

It’s not a sick feeling, and he doesn’t feel turned on by the action. His lower abdomen contacts and releases in time with his heartbeat. He ignores it, the feeling of Jeno leaning to talk to him in his ear covering his senses. He cannot ignore how warm Jeno’s breath feels tickling against his ear.

“You tell me how handsome you think I am all the time, but I never tell you how pretty you are,” Jeno says and Jaemin catches a moan in his throat, “you’re so pretty Jaemin-ah, so pretty,”

And just as Jeno is working up the last bit of courage to confess his feelings, he feels Jaemin lean against him completely, his hips rubbing against Jaemin’s and feels the unmistakable presence of a hard-on. It takes him for a surprise.

“Fuck,” Jaemin whines, and that’s when it hits him, feeling a wet sensation against his front, “Jeno-ah, I think…”

“Jaemin-ah, are you okay?”

Red flushes against Jaemin’s cheeks, not only from the heat that’s enveloping his body but also from embarrassment. Luckily, his face is squished into the crook of Jeno’s neck so Jeno himself cannot see him; unluckily, he is getting a full whiff of Jeno’s scent, making his knees weaker.

“I think I’m beginning my heat,” Jaemin says quietly, voice embarrassed and squeaky.

Jeno’s face goes pale and his grip on Jaemin’s waist tightens, “wait, what?”

“Jeno-ah, it hurts.” His hands grip onto Jeno’s hair, trying to draw him closer as he whimpers.

“Hang on,” Jeno says, “can I lift you up?”

As soon as Jaemin nods against Jeno’s neck, he wraps his hands under Jaemin’s thigh and pulls him up, letting Jaemin wrap his legs around his waist. He whines as Jeno drags him past the bodies on the dancefloor, admittedly embarrassed to be seen in this situation.

There’s a sweet scent that fills his nose, and he just hopes to god that no one else can smell it, knowing how embarrassing this must be for Jaemin. He takes him up the stairs, going past Mark who is coming down from the bathroom.

They share a look, Mark mostly confused until Jeno tells him to turn the music up and continues to his room, and then he nods with a cocked eyebrow. His door has been left half open, so he kicks it open gently and uses his heel to shut it behind him.

Slowly, he lowers Jaemin onto his bed and in an instant, Jaemin pulls Jeno so that he’s laying on top of him. He holds him close, hoping that this level of closeness is allowed and not crossing the line.

“Don’t leave me, please,” Jaemin whispers,

Jeno leans up to look down at him. His eyes are scared and glossy, his little nose twitching. His ears are loose, flopping to the side.

“I won’t, but I need you to listen to me. I’m going to go get you a drink of water, a towel, and I’ll be right back, okay? I’ll be right back here for you,”

As he goes to lean up, Jaemin grabs hold of him again and pulls him back down, “no, please stay with me. It hurts,”

“I will be right back okay? Can you let me go for a moment and I’ll be right back with water and food.” Jaemin nods hesitantly, loosening his grip for a second before tightening it again with a whine.

“C-can I… can I have your shirt? Please,”

Leaning back fully, Jeno unbuttons his white shirt, slowly and he can see lust stir in Jaemin’s eyes as he bites his lip. He holds his hand out for Jeno to give him his shirt and when he gives it to him, he holds it to his chest.

Taking that as his chance to quickly leave, he rushes downstairs and pushes past the crowd of people to get to the kitchen. He forgets about his naked torso and receives a couple of side glances as he reaches to grab a glass cup from the cupboard.

He refills it without anyone coming up to talk to him, and he dashes through the living room to get back to Jaemin as soon as possible. Not only does he stop by the cupboard with the spare towels in it, but he pops into his mother’s room to grab a perfume off her vanity before reaching his bedroom door.

The strong smell of his mother’s perfume fills the hallway in an attempt to hide the sweet smell of Jaemin’s heat that has wafted into the hallway. He opens the door and is met with the visual of Jaemin palming his crotch and crying, though Jeno can’t tell what’s sweat and what’s tears.

He runs to him, sitting the perfume on his desk next to his door, and places the drink on his bedside table. Jaemin immediately puts aside the shirt and shifts their position so that he can wrap one leg over Jeno’s waist. He smooths over his hair, patting it down as he tries to cling to him.

“Hold on baby—can I call you baby?” Jaemin nods, “do you want to sit in my lap?”

He nods again and it takes all of Jeno’s strength to reposition them, holding onto him with one hand as he stands them both up and places the towel down so that it’s positioned long ways. He sits on the towel, holding Jaemin up with his hands on his ass. He kneads the fat there, loving how Jaemin leans back on it.

Jeno grabs the glass and hands it to Jaemin who snuggles closer to him and takes a long gulp of the cool water. His skin is flushed hot, yet it seems as though the cold from the water is refreshing and exactly what he needs to think clearly. He sits the glass back down, half full.

He’s straining against his jeans, and Jeno has to refrain from helping him in that moment. Jeno is sure that the sight of Jaemin touching himself, even if it was just for a second, has made him hard, though he can’t stop to think about himself. Jaemin is in heat; Jaemin is now his top priority.

“Jaemin, how far gone are you?” Jeno asks, softly, rubbing his back soothingly.

“Um,” Jaemin ponders, “I can still think, kind of. You smell amazing, by the way,”

Jeno has to laugh at that, “thank you. What do you need me to do? I can do anything you want,”

“Please make love to me,” Jaemin says with a hushed voice.

There is something in the way Jaemin says those words that allows for Jeno to know that, as hard as it was to say, Jaemin means those words. His eyes shine with a certain kind of passion that, skin glowing though his cheeks and nose red. He is sweaty, the boiling warmth of his heat taking its toll on his skin.

Lightly, with a featherily hand, he takes the cup from Jaemin’s hands and puts it down. With the same hand, he gently holds his chin, tilting his face so they are gazing into each other’s eyes. Jaemin already looks like he is ready to lean down to capture Jeno’s soft lips in his.

“Are you sure? One hundred percent? Because if you’re not ready, I can just sit here and sooth you to sleep, anything you want,”

“I’m sure, one hundred percent,” Jaemin says, “but are you ready? You probably don’t want this to be your first time,”

“I wouldn’t of come back if I didn’t want you Jaemin-ah. I want you, I want you to be my first.” _I want you to be my only._

A loving smile stretches across Jaemin’s face and Jeno can’t help himself. An equally as loving smile stretches across his face, perhaps less toothy, but the way his eyes crease into beautiful stars as does makes up for it.

“Now kiss me, please,” Jaemin requests after a moment of sharing kind smiles and soft silence.

Jeno doesn’t respond verbally. He only tugs lightly on Jaemin’s chin and allows for the other to close the gap between them, and honest to God, Jeno forgot how nice it felt for Jaemin’s lips to be pressed against his. It is a slow push and pull, however, with his heat, it heats up quickly.

His hands reach to circle around Jaemin’s waist and pull his crotch so that it’s laying against his stomach. He follows with the movement, allowing his hips to stutter slightly at the pressure against his dick.

Letting Jaemin tug on his hair, Jeno lets a free hand snake down to the zipper of the white jeans he is wearing and unzip his pants. He moves teasingly, letting his hand slide up and under Jaemin’s shirt and press against the skin there.

He is skinny, and though there is evidence of muscle hidden under a thin layer of fat, he feels soft to the touch. His body is opposite to Jeno’s; his body is hard with the remains of going to the gym any time he is free of schoolwork or leisure activities, though the gym could be considered just that.

The hand holding Jaemin up shifts slightly, feeling the fluffy ends of Jaemin’s tail. He doesn’t register it however, and his hand continues its journey across to better his hold on him. He doesn’t realise he had accidentally pulled on the fur until Jaemin jolted forward, just as Jeno pushed onto his soft chest, purposefully avoiding his nipples.

“Do that again, please,” Jaemin whispers, detaching his lips from the sweet kiss and resting his head on Jeno’s shoulder.

Jeno isn’t quite sure what he means by that, but he lets his hand fall on the cotton bud. He squirms a little, letting out a pleasurable whine that lets Jeno know that he has guessed right. He allows himself to grab and pull, keeping his touch gently to not hurt him, knowing Jaemin probably won’t enjoy pain.

While one hand massages, the other finds a nipple and light grazes it. He does it how he’s done it on himself before, having the pads of his fingers run along the bud before he has Jaemin leaning into the touch with his chest. Then, he pinches, quick and hard, and it has Jaemin panting in his ear.

Perhaps reading all of those magazines Mark showed him a while ago was a good idea, even if at the time, he was too embarrassed to look at the front cover. He feels more confident in his movement, something Jaemin needs right now. He’s just waiting for the headspace to come.

Jaemin is stuck in a loop of leaning towards Jeno or away, pleasure coming from both end yet it’s not enough. He wants more, even as Jeno goes to pinch at his other nipple. He wants more, needs more, and the heat in his stomach is becoming hard to ignore. He can feel himself getting wetter between his legs.

“Jeno-ah,” he lets slip, “more. Please, I need more,”

“Okay baby, tell me how you’re feeling. What do you want?”

“I’m okay. Just—” he grabs Jeno’s hand up his shirt, “—touch me. Here, please.” He drags his hand to his open zipper.

A cocky smile plays on Jeno’s lips as he leans up to kiss Jaemin again. It doesn’t stay sweet for long. Jaemin grows impatient and licks into the crack of Jeno’s lips. His tongue moves in kitten licks and it is almost adorable how his body moves as if it’s a puppet and his tongue in the puppet master.

As much as Jaemin is teasing with his kitten licks, Jeno is the one who fully crosses the barrier. Jaemin is as sweet as he smells, and while he doesn’t taste of chocolate cake and cinnamon donuts, he is still exactly how Jeno imagined him.

While he licks around Jaemin’s mouth, his hand gets to work. Slipping past the waist band of his boxers, he wastes little time with feeling around and goes straight to holding Jaemin’s dick. The sensation that runs through him is obviously pleasurable as he blatantly moans into Jeno’s mouth.

He tugs experimentally, dragging his fingers loosely up and down, up and down; loving the way Jaemin pathetically tries to chase each tug, still straddling him with little to no space between them. It’s cute, Jeno thinks as he lets a kind warmth spread over his body—a heat nothing like what Jaemin is probably feeling.

They stay like that for moment, tongues smoothing together while Jeno jerks him off slowly. Right up until Jaemin suddenly breaks the kiss and grabs onto Jeno’s hair tight, face contorting in what Jeno can’t discern as pain or pleasure and that worries him.

Just as he is about to ask if Jaemin’s okay, Jaemin says, “please, please help me. It hurts, it hurts so much,”

“Where baby? Where does it hurt?” Jeno asks, slowing down his movement.

“Here, my legs, everywhere. I can’t—Jeno-ah, I’m so sorry,”

Jaemin babbles, and as he does, Jeno begins to shift them so that the blonde is laying on his back on top of the towel. His lips attach to Jaemin’s neck, sucking harshly in contrast to the pull of his hand that remains on Jaemin’s dick.

“What are you sorry for?” He mumbles into Jaemin’s skin and the heat from his breath has him reeling.

“I-I’m just, it’s messy. I’m sorry,”

“It’s okay baby,” Jeno says, moving his hand again.

“Fuck, Jeno-ah,” Jaemin moan.

He ruts his hips up at Jeno’s words, clawing at his back as the pleasure he needs takes over his senses. It’s becoming so hot, too hot, and Jaemin wants more, needs more pressure and fiction, as embarrassing as it is to admit that he’s never felt this good before.

“You like that? Being called baby?” Jeno asks. His tongue traces down Jaemin’s neck.

Jaemin nods, whimpering for more. What he isn’t prepared for is for Jeno to let go of his dick and start unbuttoning his shirt. He squirms in protest, though when Jeno pulls him to sit up he does so without hesitation to let him take off his shirt. Anything to get the extra heat off his body.

Jeno lays Jaemin back down making sure to pepper his chest kisses as he hooks his legs around his waist to tug off his jeans. Sure enough, his jeans are soaked with the slick Jaemin naturally produces due to his heat.

Throwing what he took off Jaemin’s body to the floor, he stands to rid himself of his own jeans, momentarily showing off his erection that is pressing against his boxers. When he leans back down to cover Jaemin’s sweaty body with his, the only barrier between them is the fabric of their boxers.

That fact drives Jaemin up the wall as he can’t help but rut his hips up. The friction causes his head to throw itself back. Pleasure overrides his body, just for a moment, sparks of delicious, sweet warmth overtaking his senses.

Despite feeling like he is on cloud nine, the shots of pleasure are encoded with a pain that hits at his abdomen, tightening the muscle as it contracts. Jaemin isn’t sure if he’s moaning in pain or pleasure, but the feeling is enough for him to want more, more, more. 

“Jeno, please,” Jaemin says, clearly not above begging as his brain gets clouded, “please, please I need you, it hurts,”

“What do you want baby? I need you to tell me clearly,”

“Fuck me, please,” Jaemin says, the tips of his ears red from embarrassment.

“Okay baby, I’ve got you.” Jeno presses a firm kiss to his lips while he tugs off the last remaining piece of clothing he is wearing, thankful for his forward-thinking skills. His sheets would have been ruined if he hadn’t of grabbed the towel; yay for education?

Jeno presses his finger to Jaemin, feeling around the rim as he squirms and jolts in pleasure—and perhaps in hope that he’ll get the hint and enter him quicker. It doesn’t take long for him to comply to the small whimpers he lets out. They are squeaky in tone, Jeno notes, much like a little bunny.

His hole is loose already, barely tight enough for Jeno to feel Jaemin clench down on his finger, so he adds another. He can tell this is exactly what Jaemin needs, especially in the way he ruts both up and down, searching for pleasure in both places of his pelvic area.

There isn’t much of a stretch again, though now he can feel Jaemin’s velvety walls. His fingers hold there, just for a minute longer while he kisses Jaemin, before he slowly moves them in and out, gentle and kind in his movements.

It isn’t until Jaemin is squeaking that he picks up the pace, parting his fingers slightly to feel and stretch around. It’s then that he adds a third, for the first time actually feeling as though Jaemin is getting filled the way he needs to be.

Jaemin seems to think so too, moaning aloud as Jeno presses against something inside him. From the look of Jeno’s dick through his boxers, he’s proudly big, unlike Jaemin himself who stands average yet girthy, and he knows that Jeno is probably going to worry about hurting him, but he doesn’t care.

He needs him, now. His stomach is still in painful knots, his thighs are cramping from where they’re holding on to Jeno’s waist for dear life, squishing his waist, and his mouth is becoming dry with how much he’s drooling.

“Jeno-ah, I’m stretched. Please just rail me,”

Those words are admittedly the hottest fucking thing Jeno has ever been told. Nothing can compare to the way Jaemin whines as he says it nor the way he grabs a hold of Jeno’s wrist to stop his thrusting.

“Okay baby, I’ve got you.” Jeno smiles, leaning down to press a shy kiss to his forehead.

Pulling his fingers out makes Jaemin whine, but he remains still, knowing the best is about to come. Jeno straightens out, standing to take off his boxers. He catches sight of Jaemin’s hole, the boy having left his legs open, ready, and inviting.

The slick Jaemin produces naturally has run down and is soaking his white tail’s underside, though he doesn’t think the other has noticed. He should probably stop staring, but Jaemin’s body looks like a three-course meal—mouth-wateringly delicious.

After pulling a condom out of his bedside table and ripping the packet, he takes his place in between Jaemin’s legs, engulfing Jaemin in a sweaty kiss as he rolls the condom on. The warmth from his own hand is addictive, only a precursor to what Jaemin is going to feel like.

“Tell me if you need me to stop, slow down, or anything, okay?” Jeno says with concern threaded through his voice, ears rocking forward to hear if Jaemin responds.

Jaemin nods, in all honesty too far gone to really understand what Jeno is saying, his wild, hybrid mind screaming want and need like a mantra. When Jeno presses against him, he throws his head back, clenching down as he breaches him.

Jeno’s ears perk up in interest as Jaemin moans, blunt nails dragging along Jeno’s back in pure pleasure. He is glad Mark turned the music up. Though it is hardly noticeable in his room thanks to the sound-resistant foam his mother put in there because he gets vocal while gaming, he knows the sound of Jaemin in pure ecstasy is drowned out by the music.

He stops halfway, licking a long stripe along the expanse of Jaemin’s neck that is beginning to sport purple and blue spots. Jeno isn’t even sure when he had the time to suck hickeys into his neck, but now that he’s thinking about it, he picks a spot on Jaemin’s neck and bites down softly.

With his canines dragging along Jaemin’s skin, he pushes the rest of the way in, tail slightly wagging behind him. Jaemin is loud, if Jeno is going to learn anything from this experience. Even as his hips begin to rut forward after a moment of Jaemin clenching around his length to get used to the stretch because Jeno is definitely bigger than three fingers.

He can feel Jaemin’s thighs trembling as they wrap around Jeno’s waist. His heels dig into Jeno’s lower back in a sort of attempt to beg for him to go harder. Jeno doesn’t seem to get it, not even when Jaemin begins to meet him halfway.

It takes Jaemin’s hand to find its way into Jeno’s hair and yank a tuft of it, right behind his ear, for his hips to pick up speed, but it is as if Jeno has a Master’s Degree in being a tease because he is thrusting with the same amount of vigor—too weak for what Jaemin needs to sedate the painful heat in his abdomen.

“Please—” at this point, Jaemin is below begging, “—harder. Please go harder,”

Jeno can’t bite his tongue, “wonderful manners baby.”

He thrusts with purpose, making Jaemin’s back arch in overwhelming pleasure. Never has he been on the receiving end of something that feels this amazing. Sure, he has had a fair few partners for someone his age, but he hardly felt this good.

Jaemin is clenching down with every bit of pleasure that runs through his body, hands exploring Jeno’s body with aggression. One hand finds Jeno’s nipple and he plays with it between the pads of his fingers, hoping to replicate some resemblance in the pleasure he is feeling.

His back is rubbing on the towel beneath him and he is sure he will be red tomorrow, but it will act as a reminder of how hard and good Jeno is fucking into him. He almost feels giddy thinking about it; even with the marks he is sure are going to appear in his neck and chest.

The fur of his tail is being pulled with every thrust, but Jaemin cannot find it in himself to care. The pain, if anything, is helping drive him over the edge, just an added ping of pleasure, though he did not think he would be into that sort of thing. It is making him crazy.

The heat in his stomach feels like it’s cooling down, almost like it could disappear if Jeno keeps going. That is what his body is aching for, wishing for a release, not only from the knot in his stomach, but also from the heated pain making his skin sweat.

“God, Jeno-ah, you feel amazing,”

“So do you baby. You are doing great sweetie, just a little longer,”

Deep in his stomach, Jeno can feel his end reaching, however, Jaemin is a priority. He reaches down to jerk him off, fingers slow yet they feel perfect in Jaemin’s mind. The movement causes him to rut upwards. His hips are confused, moving all over the place as it searches for that release, so close yet so far.

“Jeno-ah, I’m so—so close, please,”

“Me too. I’ve got you. Cum baby,”

“Inside, please Jeno-ah, please,” Jaemin says, begging, as if he has forgotten the protection and wants nothing more than to be filled to the brim.

Jeno doesn’t pick up the pace of his hand. Instead, he squeezes so deliciously tight that Jeno is sure that downstairs can hear the ungodly sound Jaemin lets slip, back arching with a smooth curve as he is overcome with pure pleasure and cums.

His hand grips harshly in Jeno’s hair, making him wince slightly. The sting flows through his body, and with one last thrust forward, he meets his end. He pauses, not sure whether to continue moving as he climaxes, and settles for shallowly swirling his hips against Jaemin’s, lips sucking on the junction between neck and shoulder in a hopeful attempt to ease Jaemin through his orgasm.

It seems to work because soon enough, Jaemin’s cute moans and heavy breathing slow down, his grip loosens, and his legs fall from Jeno’s waist. He basks in the aftermath, knowing that Jaemin is sated and no longer in any pain.

Jaemin feels complete; he doesn’t want to move. The feeling of Jeno in him is a daydream without the burning feeling of his heat effecting his judgement. Letting his fingers trace the muscles of Jeno’s arm, he nuzzles his cheeks against the side of his ears, making him look at him.

Jeno leans forward, pressing a kiss against Jaemin’s eyes—not where he wanted a kiss but he’ll take it. Jeno looks at him with so much love, eyes shining like stars, when he pulls back. The hand on Jaemin’s dick comes up to wipe itself on the towel.

He watches Jeno’s movements, wondering what his hand is planning on doing next, mind travelling to all the sweet possibilities. He is bought back to reality when his finger wipes a tear from his eye. It’s a tear he didn’t realise he had and it stuns him for a moment. 

“Are you okay?” Jeno asks, “I didn’t hurt you or anything? Do you want something to drink or eat?”

Jaemin shakes his head, “I’m okay—better than okay actually. You were amazing. Thank you,”

He says he is okay, however he reaches over for the glass of water, long abandoned beside them, and sits up a bit on his elbows as much as he can with his shaky arms and Jeno’s added weight. It is only a small sip of water before he puts the glass back, but his throat feels less hoarse than it did before. 

Now Jeno can’t help but wonder, “what do you think made your heat start so abruptly?”

“Probably you. You smell like sweet honey you know? My sweet honey,”

“Honey huh?” Jeno repeats in a teasing tone, leaning down to give an Eskimo kiss, “I like that,”

“Being called honey?”

“No—” Jeno pulls out, leaving Jaemin feeling empty but the conversation is enough to distract him from the stimulation, “—being your honey,”

Jaemin nearly swoons. The words go through one ear and swivel around his head in circles. He feels warm, but this time, he knows it is Jeno’s doing rather than his biology. It makes him happy, even as Jeno stands up and throws away the condom. 

“Sorry if that was cheesy,” Jeno says as he comes back to Jaemin with a handful of tissues from the box on his desk. 

He sits on the edge of the bed and begins to wipe Jaemin’s stomach free of evidence of their activities. Jeno’s stomach seems clean now too, Jaemin notices, must have cleaned it off when he first grabbed the tissues.

“Will you be my boyfriend?” Jaemin blurts out, not really thinking and for a second he thinks that he has fucked up because Jeno freezes and looks at him, but just as quickly as he stopped moving, he is throwing his body back in laughter.

“Downstairs, before this happened, I was about to tell you how much I like you,” Jeno laughs, leaning down to capture Jaemin’s lips in a soft kiss.

“I was wondering what was taking you so long. I’m guessing that’s a yes?” Jaemin asks after he pulls away.

“It’s a thousand yeses,” Jeno says, putting the tissues in his trash can and coming back to snuggle with Jaemin who happily cuddles back, “how long do you think you have until your heat is no longer sated?”

“Maybe a few hours. Let’s sleep, ‘m tired,”

“Okay baby, just wake me up when you start to feel it,” 

~~~~

A hybrids first heat usually only lasts a day, compared to the three-to-seven-day heats older hybrids get. For Jaemin, he spends the rest of the night with Jeno, letting him fill him up a total of five times during the night, and when he wakes up, eyes baggy and heavy, the bed is warm, but he is missing someone.

His boyfriend.

His hands search for him, but they reach nothing but cotton. He sighs, sitting up and looking around. The first thing he notices is the lack of pain stirring in his stomach. It is almost completely gone, only reminiscent of how hard and good Jeno is, and Jaemin both relaxes and pouts. 

The room smells like Jeno, and yet, in a strange way, it is also reminiscent of lavender and Jaemin. The lavender is perhaps an attempt to hide Jaemin’s pheromones on Jeno’s part, likely a scent blocker of sorts.

It was probably an attempt to not let anyone know what happened last night (especially Jeno’s parent who unfortunately most likely heard most of what happened last night after the party dissipated), but Jaemin cannot stop pondering if it was a possessive thing. 

The marks littering his neck say otherwise, and as he gages himself in the mirror that stands next to Jeno’s gaming set up, he can conclude that Jeno is showing off. He is still naked, eyes travelling his body. There is a pair of boxers and a shirt that is resting on the bed, presumably for him, and he decides not to wait any longer.

Downstairs, Jeno is cooking breakfast, Haeun busying herself with berating Jeno with all kinds of questions and comments. He tries to drown her out, but she is so darn loud this early in the morning (it’s only eleven, but Jeno feels like he has only gotten three hours of sleep, which he probably has).

“You know, just wait until your parents wake up. That’s gonna be awkward,” Haeun says, taking a swig of her coffee, “poor Hasook-unnie, rung me in tears last night,”

“Okay I get it! We shouldn’t of been so loud but can we really help it? He was in heat, nothing much else could be done. It was either that, or I took him home which, if I’m being honest, I don’t ever want to do that. I can’t leave him alone while he’s in pain,”

 _Oh my god,_ Haeun thinks, _he’s really in love, isn’t he?_

“You know, you should thank me—and Mark too,”

Jeno plates the food, “why should I?”

“because we got, uh, told you to at least add him back. Remember?” She says, voice trailing for a moment as she spots something in the doorway, but Jeno is too occupied with getting the cutlery out that he doesn’t notice it.

And she is right. Jeno would have been too scared to message him if his auntie and Mark hadn’t had any input, but he won’t admit that. He can sarcastically though.

“Oh thank you so much for getting me a boyfriend. I totally wouldn’t of fallen for him if it weren’t for you,”

“Boyfriend? Even better!” Haeun exclaims and just as Jeno is about to turn around to face her, a pair of arms suddenly warp around his waist, low hanging tail flying in between his legs in surprise. 

“Yeah, boyfriend is even better,” a familiar and warm voice says against his ear.

~~~~

The day felt like it had a year again, a swirling mix of warm sun and soft wind. The sun shone as it had before, a cozy goodbye to the people leaving Seoul. Outside, the wind was gentle, pattering softly against the concrete of the building.

The leaves of the trees shake against each other like solar powered dancing flowers. They match the colour of Jeno’s jacket, a warm orange. The leaves almost look like they have captured screenshots of sunsets, the tips fading into reds, pinks and yellows as well.

Inside is as cold as it always is. The piercing air doesn’t get the chance to give them goosebumps, hidden under a layer of suitable clothing. The warmth is misleading, spreading a feeling through Jeno’s body that shouldn’t be there.

It shouldn’t be there, not when he is standing there, hands fisted at his side, not ready to say goodbye. His mother and father stand off to the side, giving Mark their final words before they would send him off. Je-hwa and Haeun have already given him their final hugs, tears welling in their eyes as they tries their best to be strong. 

Jeno is next. He doesn’t want to be.; doesn’t want to be here to begin with. Mark shouldn’t go. He should stay here with him, but he can’t be selfish. He has to be strong.

As he is looking at the white tiles below trying to ground himself, he sees Mark’s vans. He looks up, can see Mark’s wet eyelashes and can’t hold it in anymore. A dark, cold feeling rushes through his bones, making the hairs under his jacket struggle to stand up.

His eyes crease, eyebrows dipping in sadness and he can’t help the loud, painful sob that escapes his wet mouth as he lunges forward, arms embracing Mark in a bone crushing hug, Mark’s own arms coming up to wrap around him, puling him as close as possible.

“Hyung! Please don’t leave!” Jeno wails, clutching tighter and tighter on Mark’s shirt.

He feels like a marshmallow. A large, weeping marshmallow.

“Jeno-ah—” 

“No! Please! I-I can’t—”

“Jeno. Listen to me.” Mark grabs his wet cheeks, squishing the fat there to make Jeno look at him, “we can still talk every day. It’s going to be okay. You are going to be okay. We are both going to be okay,” he says through tears.

Jeno nods, nose crinkling cutely as he sniffles, “yeah… yeah okay. We’ll be okay. Yeah,”

Mark smiles, soft, and still full of tears. He nods, because yeah, they are going to be okay, even if they are twelve hours apart. He pats Jeno’s ears. Jeno nods to, swallowing the spit that has gathered in his mouth, and suddenly they are being pulled out of the moment by the final call for boarding.

They have to pull away, and Jeno has to watch as he goes, carry on suitcase trailing behind him, and Jeno can’t bear to watch any longer when he disappears in the crowd of people and hybrids. His sister’s hand cups his shoulder, holding there for a second before Jeno sobs again, turning around and burying his face in her neck.

“He’ll be back,” he tells himself, “he has to come back,”

“He will Jeno-ah,” Je-hwa whispers to him, patting his hair, “he will,”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed that 'little' part. I read and reply to any and all comments, so if you have a question or request (for this series or for an unrelated one-shot), feel free to leave them down below! If you enjoy my writing, check out my other works, and I guess that is it for me! Have a great morning, day, afternoon or night.
> 
> Oh-should I open a Twitter to talk more about this series and get some feedback from you guys?


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